


Scapegoats and Med Changes

by Misguidedghostwriter



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Fix-It, Gen, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Medication, Narcissism, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, Therapy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:48:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24208456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misguidedghostwriter/pseuds/Misguidedghostwriter
Summary: Vanya gets tired of feeling emotionally dead and gets a med change.
Comments: 11
Kudos: 123





	1. Chapter 1

Vanya was having a revelation day. Revelation days was when she got stuck connecting the way she acted in present day to abuse she had endured in the past.

Today she had found herself angry. That anger was turned inward.

“Stupid idiot.” She had muttered to herself in the mirror. “Can’t do anything right."

Last night had been a tough one. Once again she had gotten a call from the ER. Klaus had overdosed and was going through rehab. He needed her to bring him his clothes and toothbrush. Vanya was mad at herself for this.

Why? She realized the answer while scrolling through an emotional support page for survivors of narcissistic abuse.

She was mad because she was the family scapegoat. Everything growing up was always her fault, and she needed to accept blame of any and all bad situations before she was able to fix anything.

That thought alone gave her a headache. She stopped scrolling and stared at the wall for a minute, thinking hard.

Clearly, the anger was a bid to control the situation. If she had the power to take the blame, then she had the power to fix the situation. That’s what she felt emotionally. Logically she knew that being mad won’t fix anything, so she should stop being mad at herself.

When she didn’t stop being mad, she got mad at herself for being mad herself. “Totally healthy.” She muttered to her empty apartment.

She stood, made her way to her restroom, and gulped down another pill. Getting better was the most anxiety inducing thing imaginable, but she was glad it was finally happening. Having a narcissistic parent broke you down from the inside. It made your self-worth a competition with your siblings. It left you scared and scarred and angry and anxious.

Tears rolled down her face, and she hardly acknowledged them. Her brain was rapidly turning into a focused mush. The pill calmed her nerves and her senses. All revelations left her in a comforting mental void.

Next, she sat down to watch some TV and plan out her next violin lesson. That’s when her phone rang. Vanya answered.

“Hello?” She asked.

“Yes, may I speak to Ms. Hargreaves?” A voice asked. A woman. She sounded old and her voice was gentle and a touch grave.

“Speaking.” Vanya said.

“I’m sorry to inform you, but your psychiatrist Mathew Brown has passed on. We would like to recommend you a different psychiatrist, someone in network.”

The news should have hit Vanya like a train, she had known this man since she was a child, and he was dead now. The news instead bumped up against her like a lazy balloon.

“Okay.” Vanya said calmly. “Who do you recommend?”

The woman on the phone tutted, “Well, there’s Doctor Clark, she’s young, new to the practice, but kind.”

“Okay.” Vanya said simply.

“Lovely, we’ll pencil you in for an appointment. Is next Tuesday at 3pm good?”

“Yes.” Vanya said.

“Alright, you’re all set dearie! We’ll see you then.”

Vanya hung up and continued her lesson plan.

It was 6 hours later when her feelings crept back in. It hit her then; she had not responded normally to news of death. Was that because of the abuse as well?

No, well maybe a little. Death was a concept she was introduced to young. Maybe she was just used to it?

Anxiety gnawed at her, and in an instant she was on her feet looking for another dose of empty calm.

As she poured a pill into her hand, she couldn’t help but remember something.

She recalled a thread from her support group. A person with cPTSD and panic disorder who had been meditated for anxiety, then switched meds. Vanya remembered the words “ _I had tried this anti-anxiety med, and it turned me into a complete zombie. I heard that my friend died and I literally felt nothing until I got off the stuff.”_ Other commenters had chimed in with similar experiences.

‘Maybe…Vanya found herself thinking, it was time for a med change. That was her biggest revelation of the day.

* * *

Tuesday came in a medicated blur. Vanya found herself sitting in her psychiatrist's office, waiting.

A familiar door by a familiar fish tank swung open and a young woman poked her head out. “Vanya?” She said with a warm smile.

Vanya hurriedly stood and followed the woman. They walked past Doctor Brown’s old office, the nameplate had been taken off the wall leaving a dusty spot where it had been. A few more doors down and Doctor Clark’s office came into view.

The office was nicely decorated with pictures of dogs and a few paintings of boats. Vanya sat on a cushy chair and took a deep breath.

The beginning of the appointment went normally. Vanya handed in her mood assessment, the psychiatrist went over her med list, then, Vanya nearly blurted “I’d like a med change, please.”

“Alright.” The doctor responded with a warm smile. “Can I ask why?”

“My…my meds make me emotionally dead sometimes.” Vanya said slowly, “they make me feel like a zombie, and I’m starting to hate it.”

“Okay, we can taper you down and start something new if you’d like. How long have you been on the med?” The woman asked.

“As long as I can remember.” Vanya muttered. “I was a kid when I started it.”

“Have they always made you feel zombie-like?”

“I think so, it’s hard to tell.” Vanya responded. “I have to ask, if I switch, please make sure my father doesn’t find out. He pushed the drugs on me since I was little, he’d be furious.”

The woman paused, “well Ms. Vanya, you’re an adult. I wouldn’t be able to tell him even if I wanted to, it’s illegal.”

Vanya nodded slowly. “He has a lot of money and he’s very powerful.”

“I know.” The woman nodded. “Perhaps it’s unprofessional to say, but I have read your book.”

“Oh…so you know my dad is an abusive narcissist?”

The woman pursed her lips “Between you and me, yes, I’d say he’s textbook case. I’ll make every effort not to let him know.”

“I promise I’m not just doing this to rebel against him.” Vanya said, preemptively defending herself, “I really feel like the meds are doing me more harm than good.”

“And you’re sure you’re not doing this for yourself and against him?” The woman asked. “It’s completely alright if you are.”

This gave Vanya pause. “I suppose it’s both then.” She responded. Something good for her that was against her father. It was an almost novel concept, and she liked it quite a bit.

“That a girl, challenging black and white thinking. Proud of you.” The doctor smiled.

Vanya felt a warm glow. It had been a very long time since anyone had said they were proud of her.

“So, let’s get a med change going.” The doctor carried on.

* * *

Vanya waited in line at the pharmacy for her prescription. She had never been to this one before, but it was just down the street from her apartment and she figured if she was changing everything, she may as well change the pharmacy too. Also she was nervous that her old pharmacy would report a med change to her father

Maybe she was being paranoid, but, no, not but…AND she had every right to be.

She had been prescribed an as needed anxiety medication for panic attacks. She was going to taper down her other medication over the course of a week.

She felt anxious at that thought, and her hand reached for her pill bottle. No, she had already had a dose today. She was going to accept her anxiety and move pass it.

Her name was called, and she walked to the counter to get her new meds.

* * *

“Oh, you’re bleeding, here let me help.” Vanya stood fast enough for her thoughts to lag behind, and she darted over to kitchen, grabbing her first aid kit.

“Here, let me take care of it.” Her words were assured and she scooted her chair over to sit by her brother.

She and Klaus were enjoying soda and movies to celebrate his release from rehab. She had offered him her couch for a week under the condition he stayed clean.

Without asking, she began work picking the glass out of her brother’s palm.

“You okay, you seemed pretty mad.” Klaus said. “Before I mean. What were you thinking about, cuz you kinda looked like you were going to murder someone.”

“Oh…” Vanya’s thoughts from moments ago filed into the forefront of her mind. “Remember when dad used to punish us for flinching?” Her jaw felt tight and her eyes squinted in anger.

“I try not to.” Klaus grunted.

“Well he was the reason we flinched, him and his stupid punishments.” A cold breeze tore through the room as a window opened. “He would get mad at us because our flinching showed him what a shitty father he was, and he wanted to think of himself as the good guy.”

Without being touched, the first aid kit jumped off the table and clattered to the floor.

Vanya frowned and pulled the last of the glass from Klaus’s hand. She grabbed a roll of gauss that had fallen into her chair and an alcohol wipe. She cleaned her brother’s wound and wrapped it.

She hadn’t noticed how speechless Klaus was until he stuttered “Holy shit Vanya, tell me how you really feel.”

“Dad was an abusive prick.” Vanya responded, skipping no beats.

“Are…are you on your meds?” Klaus asked, half chuckling.

Blush found Vanya’s cheeks.

“Ye-yes.” She half lied. She was on some meds at least. She couldn’t tell Klaus the truth, that she hadn’t touched her old medication in 4 days now. 

She began picking up the first aid kit. Her heart was beating too fast now. Was she acting to weird? What if Klaus told her dad? Would he make Vanya go back on those horrible zombie pills? “In…in fact, I’ll take one right now.” Her chest was tight. Worry overtook the neurons in her brain. She began to sweat and could swear she had a stress fever.

She stood rather quickly. One foot hit ground, the other slid, and suddenly she was in the air. She had slipped on a band aid.

“Vanya!” Klaus yelled.

Her name seemed to resonate. With surprise, she slowly realized that she hadn’t touched the ground after tripping. She was levitating, like a swimmer doing breaststroke, about 3 inches in the air.

“What the…” The shock wore off. The ground rushed up to meet her. She was lying on her stomach now.

“Fuck.” Klaus said. “You have powers.”


	2. Panic and Joy

“Come on, we’ll try it again.” Klaus’s words were excited as he guided his sister through the apartment. “You stand on top of this,” He grabbed a dining chair and swung in into the center of the room, “and I’ll push you.”

Vanya felt numb and opted to sit on the chair instead. Her face felt red, her arms felt shaky. How? How in the world? Then, the truth came to her.

“My meds.” She mouthed in a hushed voice.

“What?” Klaus asked

“My…my medication Klaus. I stopped taking it. Then I…oh god.” A wave of anxiety found her. It began at her lower back and surged up through her spine, making her head light like she had dived off a cliff, and her lungs heavy like she was breathing liquid metal. “The meds must have been…”

“Oh. Oh shit. No way.” Klaus sat down on the floor next to his sister.

A beat of silence passed.

“My powers don’t work when I’m high either.” Klaus said quietly.

Vanya’s brain checked out and suddenly she was observing herself from the outside. How pathetic she must have looked, staring off into space, tears pushing through her eyes, hands shaking, back hunched. She felt disconnected. She felt remarkably terrible and empty.

She realized from the void what was happening. Too often when her body became stressed, her mind checked out. Her therapist called it dissociation. All was silent and eerily still. Until it wasn’t.

She could hear her heartbeat in her ears. Each thump sounded angry. A single thought repeated itself from the void until all she could do was say it out loud.

“He drugged me.” She whispered. “He drugged me.” She said louder. “The BASTARD drugged me!” A loud crash sounded as the kitchen cabinets flew open. Vanya’s head felt fuzzy with rage. She was standing from the chair now, her limbs moving without permission. She was pacing the kitchen floor, her hands found her hair and she pulled hard, finding some semblance of reality in the pain.

“Hey! Hey, calm down.” Klaus had scrambled to his feet and he grabbed Vanya’s hands, trying to stop her from pulling. “Relax, hey, we’ll figure this out! Vanya, chill, hey.”

Suddenly the gaunt pale man was all Vanya could see. His face was so close to hers. “Breathe with me, okay?” He asked. “Please? In.” He took a breath. “Out. In.”

Vanya sucked air through her gritted teeth.

“Out.”

Vanya hissed out air.

“Good. In.” Again Klaus breathed deep. “Out.”

Vanya followed. Her shoulders relaxed slightly, then suddenly; ‘CRASH’.

Vanya jumped and looked around her. She watched as the kitchen chairs, the soda, the first aid kit, her toaster, and several dishes fell around her like rain. The sound of glass breaking broke too whatever spell she had been under.

The clatter was enough to make her anxious all over again. She stopped pulling at her hair and plugged her ears. It was so loud.

“No, no, keep breathing.” Klaus instructed. He pulled the kitchen chair up a second time, and this time lead Vanya to sit back down.

“What did I do?” Vanya asked.

“You uh, you got pretty scary there sis. You can make stuff float, that’s cool. Yayyyy.” He gave her a worried smile and two thumbs up.

Vanya’s breathing sped, suddenly she couldn’t get air. She drew her legs up to her chest.

“Okay, it’s okay, I’ll clean this, you just, relax.” Warm hands pushed her shoulders down.

She didn’t relax.

“Hey, hey Ben’s here, he says hi.” Klaus tried, “I can let him talk to you if you want. Sound good? Say something to him.”

Vanya continued hyperventilating. She buried her face into her hands.

“What do I do?” Klaus asked, seemingly to no one. Then he took a deep breath and pulled his sister into his arms. “Shhh shh shhh, It’s okay, you’re okay, it’s okay.”

It went on like this for another few minutes, or maybe an hour. She couldn’t tell.

When the panic attack finally subsided, as all panic attacks do, Vanya found herself on the couch wrapped in blankets hugging Klaus. He was rubbing calming circles on her back. Again, the world felt too quiet.

Her bangs were wet and stuck to her face by tears.

The two sat in silence for a beat. Klaus finally spoke. “I won’t tell dad. I promise.” He said.

For the first time in a while, Vanya found herself relaxing. Just a little. “Okay.” She breathed.

“Let’s watch some TV?” He asked.

“Ya.” She responded.

* * *

“Ready, go” Klaus threw a pillow into the air. Vanya focused on it. It flopped to the ground at her feet. She kicked it and it slid back to her brother who picked it up. “Try again, ready…go” Once more he threw the pillow. Once more it fell to the ground.

“Uhg, why can’t I do this?” Vanya said.

“Well, maybe you just have to be angry, or in danger. I could push you off the chair, see if that helps.”

Vanya thought about it. “No, let’s use that as a last resort.”

“Right.”

“I’m trying to figure out what the common denominator is.” Vanya bit at her nails and glared at the floor. “The first time I was falling, and anxious. The second time I was really angry. The drugs made me emotionally numb, so maybe…extreme emotions?”

“Do you want me to make you mad” Klaus grinned, “I could do that easy. Here,” He grabbed the pillow once more. “Pretend this pillow is dad.” He chucked it at his sister.

The pillow hit Vanya square in the face before finding its way once more to the ground. She picked it up and threw it back at him, hoping to hit him back. He caught it instead.

“Try again. Ready…go.” He threw the pillow.

Vanya focused hard, picturing her father. Experimentally, she raised her hand and imagined a wall of energy slapping the pillow down. Once more it hit in the face.

“Damn.” Klaus said. “You got any ideas?” He turned his head to the side, asking someone who Vanya couldn’t see. “Ben’s clueless.” He said to his sister.

Vanya sighed. She needed a break.

“I’m going to play my violin.” She said.

“I’ll be here, brain storming.” Klaus said.

Vanya nodded. In minutes she was in her bedroom, her bow fresh with rosin, her fingers on the strings, ready to play her thoughts away.

A high sweet note, followed by more complex ones. Her heart felt lighter, her head clearer. Energetic free notes rang through the little apartment, and she closed her eyes losing herself to the music. Joy filled the room.

Maybe if she was paying more attention she would have noticed the feint aura surrounding her. Maybe she would have noticed the curtains rustle, and her hair lightly lifting on the energy around her. She didn’t.

But, drawn by the sound, someone did see. Her brother.

* * *

Ben watched Vanya play, leaning on the doorframe, eyes wide. The music was consuming, and he could feel its power.

He remembered when Vanya had first fallen. Klaus had called her name. Then again when the items around her began floating. She had screamed.

The ghost knew in an instant what the source of her power was, sound, and emotion. Or at least, he hoped that was the case.

Excitedly, he returned to the Livingroom. Klaus was eating a Twinkie and watching an old episode of spongebob.

“Hey, I think I figured out her powers!” Ben reported.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Added a second chapter for fun. Might add more, might leave it. I'm considering roping other siblings in, not sure though.

**Author's Note:**

> No longer a one shot.
> 
> I grew up with a narcissistic mother and step father. I, like Vanya was the scapegoat of the family. Everything was my fault, I was always apologizing, and I internalized a lot of self hate. I relate to Vanya so much it hurts sometimes. I just wanted to write her on a happier, more healing path. 
> 
> I wanted to keep this one simple and to the point, and quite frankly, I wrote it for myself and my own healing. I'm sharing just in case other people are going through the same thing.
> 
> If you or someone you know is going through narcissistic abuse, please know we're not alone, this isn't normal, and there is a lot of hope. We're all in this together.
> 
> Sorry if this fic was kinda boring, but I needed to get it off my chest. Healing is a power we all possess, and we can figure out how to use it.
> 
> Have a nice day.


End file.
